


Behind The Setting Sun

by Madzie



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Jace deserves all the good things, M/M, Timers measuring when you'll realize who your soulmate is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9662933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie/pseuds/Madzie
Summary: "You’re impossible you know that?”“And yet you’re willingly sitting in a confined space with me watching the latest Captain America because I told you that he’s you from another life,” Simon sneers.“You’re right…I must have some sort of undiagnosed brain deficiency.”Simon’s laughter rings through the car, and flutters somewhere deep in Jace’s heart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a fake title prompt by the ever lovely [allthesejimonfeels ](https://allthesejimonfeels.tumblr.com) on tumblr

52475:08:22

Another eight hours were just tacked onto Jace’s timer, and he swears that the numbers are poking fun at him—Or he’s just a fucking idiot for taking even longer to realize who his soulmate is. (Surely it can’t be that hard.)

“You really need to stop staring daggers into that thing, And actually practice throwing some,” Alec tosses aside the Seraph blade he had just been training with, sweeping the back of his hand across where his hair has begun matting to his sweaty forehead. “It’s not as if those things are actually clairvoyant enough to predict the future. You know what mom says.”

“Yeah, yeah, only the weakest of shadowhunters actually pay any mind to these contraptions,” Jace parrots the words Maryse would always chide whenever catching one of her children boggling the small, cylinder screens embedded into their forearms. (If it were up to her there is no doubt in Jace’s mind that she would’ve had the clocks surgically removed long ago—Just like she had done with her own, years before she met Robert—But luckily for them one could not have the life altering procedure prior to their twenty first birthday. And even the Clave has it’s limits.) 

“Come on Alec, I know you don’t believe in Maryse’s cynicism—Or else you’d have the surgery date bolded in that little planner you keep in your pocket. Probably embellished with a bunch of little doodles like the balloons you put around mine and Izzy’s birthdays. 

Jace doesn’t know whether the flush coloring his brother’s cheeks is a result of being called out for his romanticized daydreams (A far call from the whole stoic Nephilim leader thing he’s got going for him,) or because Jace goads him about the fact that Alec is such a nerd. But he doesn’t have much time to contemplate on account of Alec lodging a knife into the wall that Jace is leaning against—Aiming it so closely that it nips his ear. 

“Alec bro!”

“You should’ve been able to dodge that. NO way in hell am I gonna be Parabatai with someone who can’t even perform something so simple that Max would’ve been able to do it.”

“You know your a real asshole Lightwood,” Jace gripes with a glower.

The smirk Alec tosses his way exudes way to much smugness than what should be warranted.

 

***

 

4287:52:12

Jace meets Clary Fray and he thinks that all the plants aline. 

She’s all bubblegum smiles, and kind words, and she has a loyalty to that infuriating mundane that can only be rivaled by his willingness to do anything and everything for his siblings. And when they kiss, it’s all sunsets, and sparkling rainbows, and all the other idiotic fairytale tropes that his father never indulged him with. “Happily ever afters are for the feeble minded Jonathan..”

But when he excitedly looks down at his arm after their first amorous moment, Jace’s features twist up in shock at the numbers yet glaring tauntingly at him. Haha haha you thought it would be that easy.

 

***

 

Jace is sure that his clock is fucked up—It’s malfunctioned or something because it just keeps on going (For fucks sake it’s adding hours,) even after he’s sure that Clary is it for him.

The clock is broken, there is no other explanation.

But Jace doesn’t end up demanding it be torn out—Just opts to tuck it away from sight. And if someone were to ask why he bothers to keep a dysfunctional soulmate timer—Well he doesn’t really have an answer for them.

That is until Valentine fucking twists everything he has ever known with a few simple words, “My children.” And it’s like the ground has been slipped right from under his feet and his stomach plummeted to the deepest chasm of Tartarus.

Because Clary is not his soulmate—And Jace supposes that he’s always kind of known—But it still hurts like nothing else.

 

***

 

Jace get’s captured, beaten, and ambushed about a half dozen times in a matter of days. And then he unceremoniously finds out about his birth mother’s death—Suffice it to say that he doesn’t have much time at all to contemplate his issues with this whole, “Realizing who your soulmate is timeline.”

That is until he finds refuge in his parabatai’s boyfriend’s loft, and spends all the god damn day walking in on them kissing, or holding hands, or even just murmuring to each other as if they were the only people on the planet, just like the love sick fools that they are. And honestly, Jace is over the moon happy with seeing Alec finally tasting the joy he—Who is indisputably the greatest and truest man he has ever known—has always deserved. And Jace is really coming to love Magnus as a brother, especially when seeing how he could bring that kind of blissful ease to Jace’s other half.

But he’d be lying if it didn’t sting just slightly when he spots the screen on his brother’s wrist while in the mist of a workout that Alec still insist he takes part of. 

“You’re a Shadowhunter Jace, a Lightwood at that, so it means you’re one of the best. Nothing Aldertree can say will ever alter that, so we really don’t need you getting rusty For when we infiltrate Valentine.”

00:00:00

It’s like the wind has just been knocked out of him, seeing the blasé way that Alec regards the clock in—Not even bothering to tell Jace—As if it were merely thoughtless fodder to idly bring up when conversation has run dry, and not the singular most important event to happen to one’s life. As if he, Jace, and Izzy had not spent their entire childhoods daftly stringing together the ideals of what their future partner would radiate.

“Yo Alec—When’d that happen,” he waves towards the most recent development before parrying a thrashing of Alec’s sore.

“Oh that—Yeah I’m pretty sure it happened right after me and Magnus’s first date.”

Jace raises a incredulous brow. “And you didn’t tell us why?”

“Dunno?” He shrugs before quite literally sweeping Jace’s legs out from under him with a thud. “I really didn’t notice since last night.”

“Man,” Jace perches himself onto his elbows, so that he is looking up at Alec hovering above him—An effortless calm found in the small, serene smile playing on the edges of his lips, and his shoulder’s looking lighter than they’ve been since they were children. As if Alec has found his center. 

“How did you not notice it right away?”

“I already kinda knew that Magnus and I had some kind of innate connection—I never really felt the need to immediately check my clock to confirm it

“Oh…”

 

***

 

Eventually, Alec kicks him out of the loft for the night.

“You need to get out your own head Jace,” he reasons loftily—But the new shirt, and ocean of cologne tells Jace another story—More like Alec wants to finally get some.

So as the obedient follower of the bro code that he is, Jace ends up collapsing into a bar stool at the Hunter’s Moon—Comforted by being swallowed up in the ocean of downworlders and mundanes that swarm around him.

“What’ll be shadowhunter?” the gruff voiced bar tender barks his way.

Jace offers him a tepid smile—Not forgetful of the last time he were here and almost died. “Hey ah wolf?…That’s a joke right?” Jace prods while reading the man’s name tag.

“Why don’t you ask me again if that was a joke pretty boy,” Wolf snarls, baring his teeth in excitement.

Jace isn’t ashamed to admit that he shrinks back in his seat, ordering a simple beer and decidedly not glancing back at the set of canines that surely would like any reason to be pressed into his neck.

With a swig of his tumblr, Jace eyes the patrons—Seeking someone, anyone to spend the night with—Someone to help him forget all about his daddy problems, or demotion from his perch atop the list of greatest Nephilim soldiers—And especially the throbbing in his chest about how he might’ve just lost his only chance at finding his soulmate—And the girl was his sister for fucks sake.

At least Jace thinks his night couldn’t get any worse—

Queue a painfully familiar vamp—One with probably the brightest smile on earth, and a pension of always almost dying—Strolling in—An really, does Jace always have to be proven wrong?

“Don’t notice me, don’t notice me,” Jace mutters as he slowly turns back around to face the daunting disposition of Wolf—But of course it was too late.

“Jace?”

With a sigh, he pivots to come face to face with Simon—He may or may not kind of choke back the beer that caught itself in his throat—Okay, so Simon might kind of look really hot, like really fucking hot, with a button up and slicked back hair. But it’s not a big deal—Jace has always been aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Simon Lewis is objectively a pretty cute nerd. But he’s always been able to just ignore it. (Disregarding completely how he may have touched him way too much at the start of their relationship than what was constituted for interactions with the guy who was suppose to be your “love rival.” NO, but he can still ignore any sort of primal attraction he has towards him. It’s really not a big deal—He could handle Simon being cute.

“You’re not wearing a graphic-T?” is what he finds fitting to scoff—Deciding to continue playing this little rivalry game they’ve got going on—Even though he’s pretty content in neither of them ever ending up with Clary.

“Yeah, well I actually was taught it was proper etiquette to clean up for a date—Not that you’d ever know that heathen. I bet you just roll out of bed looking that stupidly handsome.”

Jace tries not to preen to slyly at the oddly rude compliment—And pointedly ignores the pang to his chest when he hears that Simon had a date.

Only because it’s pathetic that even the vampire has a love life over him—No other reason at all.

“Who’d ever subject themselves with a date with you Lewis?”

“Ah—Well—“ Simon begins to scratch the back of his neck while folding into the seat besides Jace. “Maia may or may not had been under the pretense that it was a friendly kind of thing—And is still kind of getting over the crush she was nursing for Greta—You know, the werewolf girl you killed.”

Jace shutters back as if Simon had just brandished a leather whip against him, and he supposes he really isn’t as good at hiding his emotions as he likes to think, because it doesn’t take long for a guilty wince to pass across Simon’s face.

“Hey man, I’m sorry I know it wasn’t your fault—“

“Whatever,” Jace grouses, looking anywhere but at Simon. Jace thinks that this should be the part that he gets up and storms away—But he doesn’t want to. He kind of likes being in the proximity of a friend who isn’t constantly doting over him, or making sure he’s sane—He likes that Simon seems to give no fucks—That he still enjoys challenging him.

“Well, whatcha doing here? I mean I thought you were staying with Magnus.”

“He and Alec wanted some one on one time.”

Simon’s eyebrows shoot up in shock, and Jace kind of really loves the fact that he’s so open with his emotions. 

“Wow can you imagine the crazy sex they must have—I mean besides the fact they’re both like insanely hot, but like he’s a warlock and he’s a—“

“Lewis, I’d really like it if we didn’t talk about my brother’s sex life.”

“Oh right—I guess that’d be kind of awkward for ya huh?”

“Ya think?”

“But you do wanna talk—To me?” The hesitant, almost hopeful grin Simon gives him is enough for Jace’s chest to begin pumping at a rapid speed—And he really doesn’t know why. (At least he tries convincing himself that he’s clueless.)

“Why not, hell’s basically frozen over.”

“Hmm, you know Lightwood you’re kind of funny when you’re not a complete jack ass.”

“Weird, I was gonna say the same thing to you.”

The smile swept across Simon’s face is all teeth and dimples and Jace swears to the Angel that it might be the end of him.

“Okay, let’s order some more drinks shall we!”

 

***

 

They hang out sometimes.

Between the run of the mill demon sightings, the cracking down on a demonic cult or two, and of course trying to prevent Valentine from getting the Mortal Sore and killing every downworlder in sight—They do something together.

Sometimes Simon insists Jace watches some ridiculous movie franchise about glowing sticks, (Which obviously have nothing on Seraph Blades,) and others Jace forces Simon to practice his newly discovered vampire agility in a few sparring matches. But usually they go out to the Hunter’s Moon. They get a few drinks and just spend the night laughing and arguing and beating each other at endless rounds of pool while regaling out loud ridiculous stories that neither would speak in the light of day.

“Fuck out of here Vampire.” Jace guffaws while leaning against his pool cue, his lips spread into a smile so wide that he should probably be worried that his face will split in two.

“I’m telling you it works!” Simon insists with a ridiculous flailing of he arms. “It’s how I got Amir Seyd to go to sophomore year homecoming with me.”

“Okay, so weight how do you do it? Demonstrate your “mad skills” vampire.”

With a leer, Simon swaggers his way, (Well as much as an impossibly adorable dork can swagger,) and thrusts out his hand. “I’m Lewis—Simon Lewis,” he intones with his voice dropping an octave and his eyes glimmering with something pixilated. And yeah—Jace’s throat may kind of constrict, and his temples pulse with excitement. 

“Well it’s obviously not gonna work on you on account that you hate me—But I swear the move has gotten me many a men and ladies.” 

“Y—You think I hate you?” Jace asks, and he really doesn’t care if he sounds like a kicked pug, or if his lips protrude out in a sulky pout as he watches Simon retreat back to standing across the table from him. (Always out of reach.)

Jace knows it’s something ridiculous to get cross at—It was merely a passing comment that Simon probably found humorous—But it still hurt, because Jace thought they really moved past the cat and mouse game months ago.

“You don’t?”

“Ah—NO—Do you? Hate me I mean?”

“NO ay dude, you just scare the shit out of me sometimes.”

“Because I’m Valentine’s son?” Jace snarls—And he’s never really realized before just how much Simon’s thoughts about him mattered.

“No dude—Because you just slayed a ten foot demon without flinching like two hours ago, and I was scared shitless hiding behind you.”

Jace let’s out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding—A wave of relief washing over him at Simon’s ridiculous reasoning. 

“I liked protecting you?” Jace shrugs, looking straight into Simon’s eyes as he said so.

“Don’t be a dick, I’m not some fucking virgin maiden! I’m an extremely sexy vampire who just needs to get use to his sea legs is all.” A chuckle tears out of Jace’s mouth and he likes that. He likes how Simon is probably the only person who can do that—Make him laugh without even expecting it—Simon is like a sanctuary from all the hellish demons constantly lurking all around him (Physical or metaphorical.) He reminds Jace why Shadowhunters fight against the demonic creatures.

“Yeah—Yeah you are.”

By this point the bar was all but empty, save for them and the lone worker designated to clean up after all the raucous activities . And Jace has never before been so grateful for them always being the last to leave because they’re gazes are boring into one another now—An there’s an electricity in the air that Jace can feel burrowing into his veins. But before either can act on what surely is coming next, Simon coughs into his sleeve and announces that, “I need to take a piss.”

“Oh—Ah Kay cool…I’ll pay the tab?” 

Jace feels thoroughly put out—Because surely that is a sign that the attraction is not mutual in the least. (And really should he have expected anything else?)

 

***

 

They never talk about that night. And if Simon is intent on ignoring whatever connection they might of had, so is Jace—Well he will be—Eventually—Probably.

Sometimes when he’s bored Jace checks his clock—It seesaws up and down now. once his realization of who his soulmate is was mere days away, and then he went to bed, and it was another year again.

Jace seriously contemplates removing it.

He never would.

 

***

 

They find out Izzy’s addiction to the deadly drug the same moment they find out Aldertree is a turncoat, and Jace hates himself for not realizing it sooner—Or not preventing it somehow.

“I just wanted to be strong,” Izzy chokes out in the midst of her sobs. “I just wanted to prove that I’m a good shadowhunter—I just—“

“Isabelle!” Clary’s voice is stripped of anything remotely rational, rather adopting a sort of desperate edge. “You are the greatest Shadowhunter there is! You never needed anything else to make you anymore remarkable.” She cries out before collapsing her arms around Izzy’s hunched shoulders.

From the angle Jace stands he can watch as there clocks both freeze at the same time.

00:00:00

00:00:00

 

Jace doesn’t feel the slightest bit of jealousy—Or even really gives it much of a second thought. Because yeah he found out that Clary isn’t his sister but it doesn’t really change the fact that she was never his soulmate—He loves her the way he loves Izzy, and it’d make him happier than anything else to see them finally admit their growing attraction. 

“Iz—We love you—You never needed to prove anything to us,” Jace kneels down next to where Alec is clenching onto her arm—And it all feels so utterly hopeless. 

 

***

 

“It’s not your fault—You know that right?”

They’re sitting besides each other in the drive in theatre—A bucket of popcorn between them, and Simon offering Jace a twister stick.

To a stranger’s eye it might even look like a date—But they’re both too fucked up, and weary to even think of that sort of thing. (Besides it’s not as if Simon didn’t shoot Jace down weeks ago.)

“She’s my little sister—I should’ve noticed something.”

“Bullshit man! It’s not as if you’re adverse in the whole Ten Ways To Know Your Sister Has Been Tricked Into Taking Deadly Drugs By A Blood Thirsty Monster.” 

“I still should’ve—“

“Dude you really need to quit this sacrificial bullshit—Like we all know you’re doing all you can. You’re probably the most stupidly loyal and courageous guy I’ve ever met—You need to just trust in yourself that you’re doing the right thing…Okay?”

His cheeks are blazing, and Jace really doesn’t care. (It’s been a long time since he’s ever been shy about showing his feelings in front of Simon.) 

“You think I’m courageous?”

He rolls his eyes, and Jace can practically hear the “Are you really this much of an idiot,” emanating from him. “I also think you look like a greek god and have the worst taste in socks—It’s not really groundbreaking news man.”

“White socks are not boring Simon,” Jace snarks just because he can. 

“They have no finesse!”

“They’re socks! They’re entire purpose is to be hidden by your shoes! Not to have stupid novelty designs printed all over them.”

“You know Jace that’s another thing—The sex appeal of combat boots have been put to bed decades ago—And unlike me they will remain there with bell bottom jeans, and early 90s hairdos.”

Jace likes this—Likes exchanging barbs with Simon—It’s something he knows, something he’s come to rely on over the most tumultuous year of his entire life. And he thinks that maybe Simon might like it too.

“You’re impossible you know that?”

“And yet you’re willingly sitting in a confined space with me watching the latest Captain America because I told you that he’s you from another life,” Simon sneers. 

“You’re right…I must have some sort of undiagnosed brain deficiency.”

Simon’s laughter rings through the car, and flutters somewhere deep in Jace’s heart.

 

***

 

Jace pretends that his avoiding a certain vampire is solely do to the fact that the war’s intensity is ramping up to a incomparable amount. And most definitely not because he thinks that he might be falling for his stupid puns, and ramblings of everything but nothing at all.

And that is dangerous.

Because Jace is just not the type of person that anyone wants to actually have a relationship with—Just a fun name to put in their play books—And he’s accepted as much after his last night with a fairy when Simon was going out on a date with some Mundane girl who’s been harboring a crush on him for years at this point. (But Jace can’t really blame the Mundane—Simon kind of just sneaks up on you, and before you know it he’s woven himself into your every thought, and the sent of him clung onto your very soul.

Simon has already denied Jace’s advances once before—He really doesn’t think he can handle another rejection, less he endangers their friendship—And that scares Jace more than anything else in any dimension could, because Simon has become an integral part of Jace’s life—Someone he can’t imagine being able to breathe without.

So no, he will keep his feelings tucked away securely into the deepest crooks of his heart that he uses for all his given up on dreams. And keep it there.

 

***

 

The citadel has been penetrated—The glass ceilings of Idris beginning to shake with the sheer mass of demonic creatures ravaging it’s foregrounds. 

Jace can taste the metallic tang of blood mixed with the bitter poison of demonic ichor. 

He slashes, and stabs, and summersaults through the never ending maze of monsters—All the while praying that his loved ones are fighting with all their might, and thankful to all the stars above that Simon was not permitted to step into the Nephilim holy land.

Somewhere between his arm gashing open by a particularly nasty scratch, and his vision blotching with black dots—Every thing seemed to settle. Demons stopped coming in waves, and the wards lit brightly once again. But the rejoicing died down quickly after one last blow was smacked to the back of Jace’s bloody head—-And he succumbed to a wave of darkness. 

 

***

 

He comes to a few times—Sometimes with Alec, and Izzy, and Clary holding his hands and telling him that everything is all right—That they actually won—They saved the world— Other times he’s only greeted by the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital ward.

But when he finally wakes up with enough strength to raise his head, a soft hand presses his chest back down. 

“Hey there champ, there’s no rush.” Jace would recognize that voice anywhere.

“I can get up,” he contends.

“Jace do you make it a point to be contrary on everything I say?” Simon chastises with a cluck of the tongue. But Jace can here the smothered amusement. 

“I have to, who else will remind you that you’re always wrong?”

“Asshole.”

He moves his heavy head to finally face him, a sickening twist in his stomach when he spots a brutal scratch throbbing across his cheek.

Lewis!” He tries to yell, but it only comes out as a rasp. “What the fuck happened?”

“Ah—Yeah this bad boy—Some demon nicked me while I was trying to get to Clary to tell her how to use the soared—It’s really not that bad.”

Gingerly, Jace takes his pointer finger and strokes the injury—Really trying to ignore how it’s probably the most intimate way they’ve ever touched, and his chest is reacting unfairly harshly to that fact.

“I thought you vamps were suppose to heal quickly?”

“Ah yeah—Raphael says it’s because the demon had some sort of weird enchantment or whatever—But yeah, it’ll end up being a pretty wicked scar. Maybe bring up my bad ass levels?”

“You’ll never be a bad ass.”

“Meanie.”

Jace snickers at the grimace that has upturned Simon’s ordinary soft features into something resembling a very tart Bambi, and before he knows it, his hand has slipped from Simon’s cheek to his shoulder, and Jace is pushing hisself forward to flush himself against Simon completely.

He tastes like blood, and citrus, and something quintessentially Simon—And it should probably be gross but it’s not—How could it be, it’s Simon. Jace finds himself only wanting more and more and more. 

Somehow, Simon has made it so that he’s grasping Jace’s hips while letting him lye backdown onto the bed, (Because he’s thoughtful like that,) and Jace only grasps his neck tighter. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” Jace breathes out once they finally part for a breath of air—But still close enough so that his lips contour against Simon’s—Shocked when he hears a slight chuckle slipping from the other man’s lips.

“It’s about time dude—I mean I thought you Lightwoods were supposed to be like super intuitive and shit.”

Jace punches his arm with all the strength he has left.

“Ouch—Hey!”  
“What the hell are you even talking about Lewis?”

When Simon pushes back to his seat, Jace finds himself missing his warmth already—And yeah—He’s fallen completely for this dork.

Silently, Jace watches as Simon tugs down his sleeve to reveal his own clock—

00:00:00

“H-How long have you?”

“Since that night at the bar, when you said that you liked protecting me like the overly masculine bitch that you are.”

“But you never—“

“Dude, I din’ want your clock to run down just because mine did—I wanted it too be real.”

In a sudden burst of happiness over this most recent revelation, anger over how long it took them, and elation towards what the future entails, he shoots forward and grabs Simon by the lapels of his windbreaker. 

“It is real doofus! It’s the realest anything has ever been, in the history of ever!”

“Yeah,” Simon smirks. “the half hard fella in your nether regions convinced me of that.”

Jace thinks he’d like to smack that pride right off of Simon’s stupid face, but opts to kiss him senseless instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty please let me know your thoughts ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> And if you wanna shoot me a prompt yourself, visit me on my [Tumblr](http://ishtarinthesky.tumblr.com)


End file.
